Arcade Fire
by damnation soldier
Summary: In which Beth Tennyson is a cocky tomboy whose unique disposition gets her heavily immersed in the alien element. In which Kevin still falls for Gwen. In which eventually Beth develops feelings for the young man who survived the Null Void and he in turn realizes his connection with the omnitrix wielder dangerously rivals that of his own girlfriend's. In which life takes control.
1. One

**A/N**: I wanted to do something fun so this is probably one of my lighter, less intense projects. Shorter length and all for each installment. Basically this is a collection of legit Bevin drabbles due to Fem!Ben (and Male!Julie plus a few other logical gender-bents). The format of these chapters is switching POV's back and forth between Beth and Kevin simply because I want to try writing in first person. You should probably review. *wink*

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><p><em>One<em>

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><p>It's silent, one of those nights when the two of us are in the car alone. Gwen's in the dojo and her practice wouldn't be over for another five minutes or so. We're picking her up and then going out for patrol. The usual combo. It'll probably be a quiet night though given the fact that we had quite the excitement blowing up a xenocyte shipment yesterday and hadn't found any new leads for the Highbreed problem.<p>

Suddenly out of the blue Kevin remarks, "You have a messiah complex."

"I have a _what_?" I asked the guy. Certainly, it was an interesting line to start a conversation for sure.

"A messiah complex," Kevin repeated from the driver's seat, neck craning to turn around and face me. I always sat at the back, the passenger's seat might as well be labelled as Gwen's. He explained, "You have this grandiose delusion that you're supposed to save everyone. That you _can_ save everyone."

"Never pegged you as an analyst or a therapist. Why do you always have to insult my abilities?" I questioned. "Yes, it's stupid but they don't call me the savior of the universe for nothing. It's my job and I'll do it for as long as I can."

His voice a thick rasp, Kevin replied, trying his best to not sound harsh, "Look, I just think you need to get your head straight about our priorities."

I sighed. "Is this about last week? You're still mad that I chose Tyler over the Oscillator Key?"

"I'm not mad about your choices. I'm mad about the possible consequences," Kevin answered slowly.

"Oh, so now you're a fortune teller?" I bit back sarcastically.

"Beth, will you just _stop_ being so stubborn? This is constructive criticism here. You signed up as the leader and I'm only going to fight for you if I think you're a good one. Which presently you clearly aren't," he stated, strong dark eyes staring at me evenly as if he's almost challenging me to oppose him. I couldn't.

He frowns when he notices the effect his words had on me. "I'm sorry."

"You're not," I whispered.

He admits sheepishly, "Okay, maybe I'm not."

"You shouldn't be," I added calmly. "You're right. Sometimes I get _obsessive_ with the body count, with keeping things clean. I don't want blood on my hands or an abduction when I could prevent it in this case. And it's my weakness because I let it cloud my judgment on bigger dangers. But I can't regret the decisions I made, because if I do then I'll start questioning everything I've done."

"And I'm not asking you to," Kevin says. "Heck, I'm not asking you to change. Not completely. Because you would be heartless if you didn't have that kind of drive in your conscience. I just want you to compromise. Especially during these times, you need to compromise. It's tough but you have to do it. We can fix the damage later, once we won the war. I promise."

"You sound confident," I noted in a surprised tone.

"I have a good leader. Well most of the time," Kevin reasoned, smiling. The air is oddly warm.

Then my cousin abruptly enters the car, freshly showered and still a little upbeat from the martial arts adrenaline. "Looks pretty serious from out there. What were you guys talking about?" Gwen asked, curious as she tossed her gym bag which I caught and set aside next to me.

"Just some boring video games, you wouldn't be interested," Kevin attentively responded before we drove off the parking lot. I nodded, murmuring, "Yeah, video games."

Neither of us were particularly comfortable with revealing that we discussed these sensitive topics. So we didn't. We never do. It's an unspoken agreement between us from the very beginning. In public we bitch and hit, trade mean insults and bad jokes. There's no concern, no conversation that gets to a depth beyond the parameters of teammates for battles and casual comrades. He's Kevin Levin. I'm Beth Tennyson. We have a messy history which both complicates and uncomplicates things.

He has a thing with my cousin. I'm seeing Julian.

I'm beginning to notice the flaw in our arrangement. For it's things like these, the white lies, the undisclosed talks shared between him and I that makes me want something I shouldn't.


	2. Two

**A/N**: You can probably tell, this one is set during 'Pier Pressure'. Expanded and altered scene with redefined relationship dynamics and all. Since this series is quite spontaneous, the chapters' events will not be set in chronological order but rather in random sequence. Basically I'll give out new material whenever the inspiration strikes. Some will be rewritten versions of the scenes that took place like this one and others unseen/missing scenes I'll improvise like the previous one. Reviews. Guys, I need reviews. Please.

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><p><em>Two<br>_

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><p>I cleared my throat, my sudden presence in the pantry startling her enough to fumble with the carton of milk she'd pulled out from the fridge. For she'd rather relinquish her grip on it than the very much fragile ceramic mug in her other hand, unbalanced, the open container spilled a decent amount of the dairy product onto the floor. Luckily she stopped it, having caught it before it completely fell to the ground, placing both items gingerly on the marble counter.<p>

The striking pair of green eyes nearly identical to her cousin who I liked, a little wild looking and betrayed, shot a furious glare at me. She looked like a drowned cat really. It's more funny than threatening. "That was a waste of perfectly good milk!" She exclaimed, making a big deal out of it.

I stifled a laugh. "It's not my fault you are not a paradigm of coordination."

"You're not even supposed to be here. How did you get into my house?" Beth asked, eyebrows scrunched together, her tone accusing.

I smirked. "Your back door was unlocked."

"No, it's not," she denied immediately before scoffing in disbelief. "Unbelievable. Breaking and entering. Why am I not surprised?"

Messing around and getting Beth worked up was pretty entertaining so to speak. But I guess maybe I went a little too far. I already added another chore to her list, mop up the milk I made her spill, the least I can do was not make her repair a broken doorknob. Anyways I doubt that she can do it.

Sure she wears rather masculine clothes (loose street wear mostly, plain tees, jeans, Vans and a hoodie that's seen better days), doesn't really take care of herself the way most girls do (like she probably doesn't brush her hair that often, how her skin ain't perfect, there's minor blemishes, cuts and scratches here and there but they don't really stick out yet they're there, she never uses beauty products and now I'm not saying Beth was bad looking, she's really not and she's alright but it's just she doesn't try hard at appearances, or anything really if it's not related to aliens, which is actually pretty cool 'cause it's effortless and natural, and _yeah_, not that I'd ever say it to her face 'cause her ego's big enough as it is), she's a soccer player (outdoorsy enough that she's lightly tanned from the sun) and an avid video gamer (she likes winning a little too much, a sore loser really if she doesn't but she's damn skilled and this is an opinion made without bounds to gender), kind of chill when it comes to school, is pretty rude and snappish in general, one of the boys really that you can't really take her seriously as a girl or dateable material compared to Gwen who's a refined image of calm femininity, but she's still a girl. Home hardware isn't really her forte.

I didn't put up a fight and I accepted the blame wholeheartedly. "Okay, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'll fix it later."

Beth was used to the teasing and let the comment slip (unlike Gwen with whom I can't get away with anything, I can be all sorts of crass and crude with her because we're both relaxed, bluntly straightforward and ill equipped with dirty mouths, though mine was much worse), only rolling her eyes and focusing on what's important. She gave me a pointed look and seethed through gritted teeth, "You better."

"So," I began, winking at her just for the heck of it. It's not flirting when you can't really imagine being with the recipient of such gestures. I'm chasing after Gwen. My feelings for her are clear. I wanted her. She's beautiful and smart and fiery and gentle. "Gwen told me you needed a favor."

As if under torture, she let out a dramatic groan. "What, you want me to beg?"

"Yes," I replied, amused. She made a non committal noise, a bit repulsed at my demands. Facial features pinched like a lemon, she gave in, her dignity coming in second. "Fine. Kevin, will you _please_ give Julian and I a ride to the pier tonight? Neither of us have our licenses yet and I need your help. Did that boost your self esteem?"

I broke into laughter. "You've got balls, I get that. But with a tongue like that, how the heck did you manage to ask out Bellwood's golden boy? Did you flatter him with your exceedingly vast amount of modesty?"

She didn't bother to complain about the nickname I gave the American-Japanese tennis player she had a crush on because she figured it was useless. It's true. I wasn't gonna stop making fun of her and her tastes. Frankly, it's kind of predictable. She set her sights on the cute (this is Beth and Gwen's wording) jock, one of the town's most forefront and respected athletes, perfectly perfect son and straight-A student with the bright, stable future and whatever. Personally I don't really think she'll be satisfied for long. Beth's always been the adventurous type.

And Julian, I can't really be eloquent in my sentiments for the guy and I don't know him at all really but my impression of him is bland, boring and.. _normal_. He's a prime quality commercial for all things Earth. Safe to say, he's probably going to have a hard time keeping up with her considering Beth's a long shot from ordinary. She might be human in genetic code, but there's so many things that make her something else entirely. She'll try to keep him in the dark, wanting him to stay safe for sure, but definitely that's not gonna last forever. It can't.

"For your information, I _can_ be charming and smooth when I want to," she objected defensively.

"Please, you're about as charming as Azmuth on a good day. And as for smooth, you're a train wreck. Without a teleprompter, you either babble or spew out fire," I said. She was about to retaliate but I beat her to the punch. I slept through the whole thing earlier this morning because a tennis match was like watching a ballet or a really bad opera, there's no rush, no danger, not like racing or fighting, but I knew the truth. Beth's not really capable of being anything other than an emotionally constipated admirer. For someone so loud, she can get ridiculously shy sometimes. "Gwen totally fed you the lines, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't," she said. Her left eye twitched. "You liar," I told her. "It's no shame, Tennyson." I rarely ever call her by her first name, not unless I really needed to reach her, make her listen, simply because this was another act of defiance and it annoyed her like hell. Beth attempted to return the favor, making the disrespect mutual but she was raised as a Southerner and as a habit she didn't really use people's surnames on default that eventually she didn't go through the hassle of calling me by Levin. "Not all of us are born with grace and charisma. You don't have to be envious," I referred to myself jokingly.

"Of _you_? Graceful and charismatic?" She retorted. "Coming from a felon and former conman, I suppose you meant you possessed the ability to place false assurance and trick others."

"Ouch," I faked a wound to the heart, pretending that it stung. "I'll have you know that I am an entrepreneur who is extremely gifted in the art of profiting from exotic interplanetary technology transactions."

She faked a sugary sweet smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you are an _intensely_ talented actor? And that's not a compliment in case you thought it was."

I mimicked her expression, grinning ear to ear as I leaned forward on the table. She only narrowed her eyes when our faces were inches apart. "Just about everyone I know. Has anyone ever told _you_ that you're a horribly self righteous character?"

Then again she's the girl with the omnitrix, predestined to be the protector of the galaxy, it's one hell of a job description so of course it probably came with the title. Hypocritically she was a little rebellious herself for I recalled she didn't complain when I literally made an arcade cabinet shoot out coins and more seriously we had raided a warehouse for a video game simply because we wanted to live a little. But she knew the lines. She'd never let me hurt the innocent. Heroic Tennyson, I used to mock her. Of course I didn't see eye to eye with her. I tried to kill her when we were children because she tried to stop me. Granted, she did it for a very good reason. I wasn't really myself. I was bat shit crazy. I screwed her over, framed her, beat her, inflict as much pain onto her individual as I could. It's scary sometimes just how close I came to succeeding.

I felt thankful for her. It took me a while to come to my senses and acknowledge that. I felt thankful for what she did back then, for what she did just recently. She wanted to help me five years ago and I shunned her. This time, despite the circumstances of how we encountered one another yet again (I'm still a criminal, I'm still a thief and we're on opposite sides of the law), she'd trusted me, gave me a second chance like I deserved it. I took her compassion for granted sometimes. And I underestimate her knowledge, her judgment. She knew me, in one way or another, she knew my games, my tricks and she never fell for them. She saw through my mask and confronted me, proving her point fixedly.

Like that incident when I ran off with her grandpa's motor home, the Rustbucket which was nothing short of a goldmine for alien tech. My intentions were right, but I couldn't really operate on a similar note. Maybe the ends justified the means, I foolishly assumed and I was confident that I could pull it off. Instead I got scammed, surprise, surprise, and I nearly ruined everything, not just for me but for her and Gwen. I was ready to give up. She didn't let me. Neither of them did._ It's not what you've done that matters, but what you're going to._

I watch her frown almost tiredly. Grunting softly she concluded, "_Look_, are you or are you not willing to drive Julian and I to the pier? It's near the coastline so it's a little too far for walking distance. Because if you're not I'll just text him right now and change the venue for our date since I can't fly him there 'cause I sure as hell don't want him to know I'm a freak."

Deep down I wanted to reprimand her. I hated the word 'freak', it was used against me viciously though not unjustly and I didn't like anyone, at least anyone decent, thinking, defining themselves as that in their minds. She shouldn't be so insecure. She's eccentric and neurotic and flawed and great, with or without the alien watch, but by a mile she's not a freak. Instead of voicing out these thoughts though, I chose to forget them because they're borderline sappy and had only said, "I'll chaperone you and lover boy tonight. Scout's honor."

Her face lit up instantly at my lack of struggle. "That's it? No bribes, no after ties, nothing you want in return?"

"Nope," I answered nonchalantly.

I knew what she was thinking. It was too good to be true. She cast a suspicious glance my way, already realizing the living nightmare I'm going to put her through. She squirmed, understanding the devious reason I agreed so easily. "You're going to make me miserable by embarrassing the hell out of me throughout the whole ride, aren't you?"

I shrugged, wondering just why I was enjoying myself far more than I should. "What can I say? It's my job to keep you hopelessly single for life."

She pitifully smacked her head onto the counter, absolutely defeated. Voice muffled she drawled, "God, I really need a car."

I chuckled. Ignoring her muttered woes, I simply straightened and stood, strolling past her towards the refrigerator and making myself at home. "You got any beer in here?"


	3. Three

**A/N**: This takes place during 'Save The Last Dance' alas where we see Beth's maternal instincts kick in... or not. Just a little. The rest is all her. Reviews please.

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><p><em>Three<br>_

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><p>"Beth, we have an emergency!"<p>

Kevin barged through the garage bathroom. Fortunately I had purposely kept it unlocked for I was only brushing my teeth by the sink. Obnoxiously stalling him, I put one hand up in the air to motion a pause as I rinsed the toothpaste in my mouth for a good twenty seconds. When I turned around to the osmosian, he looked just about ready to explode.

My tone was flat. "What emergency?"

He growls in frustration. "Gwen expects me to take her to the school dance."

Gwen's spring formal was tonight, I knew and suspected she might want him to be her date. I'm confused. Didn't he want to take her? Of course he did. "And _how_ is this bad news again?"

"It isn't," he pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously looking stressed. "I'm just.. _ugh_. Look, Gwen's school, the academy, Bellwood Preparatory or something is fancy. Level ten fancy. Morningstar douche bag level fancy. You gotta be prim and proper and I'm not like those preppy guys at her place."

I shook my head. He needs to understand. "Yeah, you're not like them. Which is exactly why she wants to go out with you. She chose you instead of them." I sighed, "What are you even afraid of, Kevin? If she wants you to eat five course, you eat. If she wants you to dance the waltz, you dance. Be yourself."

"What if myself isn't good enough?" He asked, his defeated tone sounding foreign to my ears.

"Well then, she's an idiot. But since this is Gwen we're talking about, I doubt it. You're more than enough," I told him. I gave him a once over, head to toe and smiled. True he needed a pep talk, but I can give him more. Kevin looked like he needed the confidence. What can I say? I'm feeling a bit more compassionate today. "Come on, we're going to the mall."

"The mall?" He doesn't catch on. I pushed his taller frame through the doorway. He doesn't resist. "We're going shopping." I listed, "You need a tux. And shoes. And breath mints. And a corsage. And flowers. And maybe a condom."

Kevin lets out a bitter chuckle at the last part. "_Ha ha_, very funny, Tennyson."

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><p>Picking out the flowers was easy. Kevin was pretty clueless on the whole thing so I just asked the shopkeeper to get my cousin's favorites and have the bouquet and wrist corsage ready by five for the guy to take.<p>

Next stop was men's clothing. We entered one of the stores selling formal styles and before the looks of suspicion start from the staff I merely handed my credit card to the front desk. Kevin had no time to protest, even if he did later I'd tell him the truth. It was the card my dad gave to me for monthly expenses.

The manager, a well dressed man in his late twenties by the name of Gerald (his name tag read so) was mildly surprised but didn't remain taken aback for long. At least he knew everything would be paid for so he shifted onto the phase akin to kissing our boots. They were right when they said no matter where you go, money talks.

Gerald looks pleased. "What can I help you with, young miss and sir?"

Kevin fights the awkward urge to fidget, about to fumble about the display. There were many choices. I take my cue to speak. "My friend here needs a full wardrobe for a formal function."

Gerald offered, "Perhaps you'd like a fitting for him? We can customize an order."

"No, thank you," I declined politely. "He needs the outfit for tonight, there's not enough time for that. We'll buy what you have ready if that's okay."

The sales person nodded, sensing he wasn't quite needed. "Of course, miss. Well then you're very much welcomed to take a look at our collection. I'll wait by the register. Call me or my assistant, Rebecca, if you need anything."

"Thanks," I said, before leaving him. Approaching Kevin, I cleared my throat. "The stuff at the front here are too small for you. Larger sizes are at the back," I explained. His build, especially for the shoulders and arms, was rather broad and muscular for the regular, slimmer tops. They'd be too snug on him. He's even too tall for the bottoms as well I assumed. Kevin stared at me dumbly before he followed me shortly as I walked, both of us reaching the inner areas of the store. It's conveniently closer to the changing rooms, with more wall length mirrors available.

Kevin began to look at the items on the hangars, whistling when he inspected one of the price tags. "I'll pay you back someday," he vows.

"On a mechanic's salary?" I laughed at the promise, denying his intention instantly. "As if." Before he could comment I added, "And if you make jackpot with alien tech trade, don't you dare use that money to make up on this."

Kevin's miscellaneous way of earning, black market deals and the sort, bordered on being illegal and I want no part of it. Plus I'd rather him direct his finances elsewhere, pimp his car, pay for mortgage, and other sustainable vessels that benefit his living. This was a trivial splurge I wasn't going to let him cover for. Our adventures together gave him enough bills for repairing his ride, with it being our mode of transportation and him our designated driver, since it got damaged often. Usually on my behalf.

"_Hey_, at least it's not blood money," he defended. I replied, assuring him it was okay, "Relax. It's on me. I rarely need that card anyways. Might as well put it to good use." It's true. I didn't shop much. Smoothies, a ticket to the movies, food, the occasional shirt, sneakers or pants were a smaller quota of spending value that cash was sufficient. The only thing I paid for in credit was maybe soccer cleats every now and then.

Realizing it was pointless to argue he dropped the subject and changed topics. He takes a step back, a little overwhelmed and exhales heavily. "Do I _really_ need to dress up like this? Why can't I just wear a clean shirt and jeans?"

I rummaged through a rack, searching for the better quality fabric and suitable tailoring, while simultaneously engaging him in conversation. "You can't get away with that in Gwen's school. They won't let you in." Dress code even for leisurely events is rather strict in private schools. The academy Gwen went to was prestigious, the smart and the rich went there. It was bigger, classier, all high budget class equipment and everything, so overall it's more entitled and disciplined. I went to Bellwood Public High. Not to say I got thrown in the barracks or anything, the kids in my school aren't hooligans but let's just say we're not as orderly.

Gwen's place offers better careers and university pathways as only appropriate since most of the science and math competitions are held there. Conventionally it also held the higher GPA. They wear stuffy uniforms and get thick imported textbooks to study with. There's a ridiculous glorification of academic standards. You have to get strong grades. Mine leaned towards less of that and more towards the mediocre stuff. We had more to do with the sports though which explains the large stadium of a backyard used for the games and trophy tournaments. Thus things went differently, applying to social conducts like parties as well. In Bellwood Public you didn't do ballgowns and orchestra and proper dinners at dances. We had raves. Well, it's similar to raves since our hurrah's aren't as civilized or organized. They don't even give a damn if you end up in your monkey suit by the end of the night.

Kevin sighs, frowning, and knowing what's really bothering him I turned my attention to him while shoving a pair of Italian leather shoes his way. "I know how it looks like. It's like you feel this pressure to fit in and be part of this side of her world. The stiff, perfect and uncompromising side. Well, to hell with that. You got more in common with her than any of those guys she goes to school with. You both have powers and fight aliens side by side on a daily basis. You talk to her, you get her. You like her and she likes you. _That's_ connection. You don't need to prove yourself anywhere else. _Yeah_, you're gonna clean up nice for her but you don't have to change your identity. You can still be a daredevil, a pushover, a mean butt kicker, an asshole in short and she'll like you for it. The whole point of tonight is having a good time with her. So don't over-think it, don't worry, just breathe and before you know it you'll realize you're having way too much fun to even care about that silly stuff."

His expression changes, presently oddly admiring. "You're getting _freakishly_ good at calming me down when I'm going to have a shit fit."

"Yup, that's one of my many talents," I responded. I pushed a crisp white dress shirt and a black three piece suit of my choice into his hands, quickly adding a gray vest which I estimated to be his size. "Try those on," I instructed. After giving me a crooked smile as he unfolded the articles, Kevin disappeared into the changing partitions.

While waiting I plucked out one of the nicer bow ties from a nearby shelf. Before long I hear the distinct sweep of curtains behind me. Kevin stepped out in the ensemble and my feet turned to lead. He looked really good. Disturbingly good. I mean he's handsome the way he is (always, wearing anything or everything or nothing, plain or sweaty or greasy or polished, you get the point) but this image was.. _wow_. This feels wrong. I shouldn't be thinking this. I'm going insane.

"Does this look okay?" He questions the attire on his form, oblivious from my thankfully discrete thoughts.

"Yeah, it looks fine," I managed, somehow not stuttering, shuffling forward and hoping I won't trip. "Can I?" I motioned to the bow tie I had and he shrugs. I swear my fingers were trembling, either Kevin was kind enough to dismiss it as being cold or he was pretending he hasn't noticed. I finished the knot efficiently, my hands resting on his chest but I didn't quite have the heart to withdraw so I simply stood there in front of him. He doesn't seem to mind.

For a second it was quiet then he asked, "Have you ever been to a dance before?" With this I pulled away slightly, the moment over.

The context was switched for at my school automatically yet still my answer was an off key, "Sort of."

"What do you mean?" His interest is piqued by my vague wording.

I took a breath. "I went a couple of times but it's just not my scene. I usually end up getting all the food I can and finding an empty spot behind the bleachers to munch on it before ditching the whole thing. The one time I actually did want to go and be there all the way, it kind of didn't work out."

"I thought you'd be the life of the party," he remarked hesitantly. With how smart and well rounded he is, sometimes I forget Kevin didn't attend an official education. If we weren't tested on the books, I bet Kevin is way more intelligent than the lot of us average humans. He's learned everything by experience in the streets and in the field whether it be business, astrophysics, automobiles, or life. Yet because of this unorthodox method misconceptions like the American high school hierarchy is something he'll often encounter in his presumptions.

"_Not_ really. It's different and not that simple. I'm the class clown. I'm dyslexic, kind of an underachiever, and tardy, sleepy old me gets detention sometimes. Frankly I'm pretty sure the reason I'm not expelled is the fact I'm MVP, one of the perks of an athlete, and I know when to shut my mouth when the teachers are actually serious on their threats. Yes, I get into trouble, some of my grades will make you wince and I can create a little chaos with my sunny personality but that's about it," I explained. "I don't really have that many friends. I mean just casually I have some people who are nice to me but some aren't so nice either." There were bullies. Caitlin and Tamara for example and so on. But there are a few neutral grounds. And recently there was Julian. It wasn't so bad. In the feeling of belonging meter I suppose it wasn't satisfactory, it never could be, because life shouldn't be that easy but it was adequate. I wasn't about to ask for more. It's not like my existence was being tormented at every minute in those halls. More like the crap arrives on a weekly note. Plus all this excitement having to do with the extraterrestrial made up for it. It made me feel valued, important, purposeful. Even if it was in secret, I'd gladly take it as a substitute.

"What happened on the dance? The one you said didn't work out," Kevin wondered aloud and I felt the tension building in his body posture, like he's preparing to attack.

I sighed. "It's not a big deal. I was fourteen. There was this guy, Ellis, striker from the boys soccer team. I liked him, he's the first guy I've ever really liked and by some miracle he asked me out. Then he cancelled last minute, I was already waiting for him at the gate and turns out he was moving to California. His dad got a job at this high end science lab, he got a scholarship for his playing at Oakland and they couldn't turn it down. I kind of thought he still wanted to be friends, that we were cool but reality is we're not and he didn't want to receive any calls or texts there. He had a new life ahead of him, opportunities and whatnot. I guess I'm just another thing he's eager to leave behind."

"_Oh_," he flushed, realizing that not only I got stood up, I also got the cold shoulder. My story had apparently upset him as his features considerably hardened. I gave him a look of acceptance, not wanting him to get worked up about something that cannot be undone. There was no need to spoil the mood. "Forget it. It's no one's fault. It was nothing. It's in the past."

I reached up to take the tie off of him. "Let's get all this to the cashier." Before I could completely back away he caught my wrist, the one with the omnitrix. "It's _not_ nothing," the half alien, half human hybrid said. "That Ellis guy is a jerk. You deserved better." He released his grip gently, all too aware of the fact that some invisible force had taken control of him that he'd acted rather boldly. Though he might've let go of that limb, it was as if he still held me hostage for his eyes were as inescapable and compelling as ever. "You're special. You're sarcastic and stupid and funny and brave. He would've been lucky if he stayed."

I regulated my heartbeat, doing my best in reacting as indifferently as possible. His unexpected sincerity was difficult to shake off. "That's the same advice I'd give you. If you're happy with who you are, other people will be too." I needed distance from him. "Sweep Gwen off her feet tonight."

He gets it. I don't want to discuss it. His glance is grateful nonetheless for the help I've given him. "You didn't have to have my back and all, but you did. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. What are friends for?" Friends, that's what we are and nothing more, I try to convince myself over and over again. It's like a warning. Maybe if I said it aloud it'd be easier to believe. I brushed him off and left him to change back into his clothes. I swallowed, feeling nauseated to my stomach. I feel like retching. I'm getting way too attached to someone who's taken. Irony is a sick bitch. He used to be my enemy, he stole power and energy from me, he used to pound me senseless and want me dead. Change was a funny and indescribable thing. For today I trusted him with my life. Yet he's still someone, who against all logic and reason, I can't and shouldn't have.


	4. Four

**A/N**: Takes place somewhere in season two. It will have a following piece later as a direct continuation to this one. Bear with my imagination. Reviews are very much appreciated.

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><p><em>Four<br>_

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><p>"It's such a slow day," I mumbled. We were sitting on the hood of my car by the diner joint's parking lot. I was drinking a can of coke and Beth an orange-mango smoothie. Gwen has a karate tournament that began since this morning which lead up to the final rounds at around eight at night. She'll probably win so even though it's left unspoken the two of us already know she's taking an off day today.<p>

"Well what did you expect?" The brunette countered my complaint. "It's Bellwood. We don't really have much, Mr. I've-Seen-The-World-And-Beyond. And alien activity usually takes place at night in these parts."

"I know, I know," I replied. "I just don't like sitting around here doing nothing. Downtime's fun and all but this doesn't feel productive."

"You could always apply for another job other than a mechanic if you're feeling restless for some daytime action. Personal trainer, perhaps? That way you can beat people up whenever you want and get paid for it," she suggested.

I shook my head. "I can't exactly show the guy who owns the local gym my resume."

"Oh, _right_," she muttered, dumb struck that I cracked a half smile, a mix of fondness and bitter resignation for my situation. Beth knew I wasn't an honest man, even if I'm trying to be one right now and thankfully am so far succeeding, my work experience was anything but aligned to a clean cut boy next door. It was a stellar reflection of my darker times. Thus blending in with Earthlings I pretty much have no advantage when it comes to the more conventional prerequisites of job applications. I had a blank slate. A blank, blank slate.

When I tipped back my soda and Beth continued slurping through the straw, it resumed a comfortable silence that passed between us once more. I had a rather extensive network when it comes to business but contrary to popular belief I actually didn't have many friends. Hell, I probably had none. My interplanetary acquaintances either want to bargain with me or back stab me, that's the way the world works. An abundance of frenemies.

But here, ever since I've reintegrated myself with human society, teenagers alike I found myself hanging out with the Tennyson cousins and no one else. I can be charismatic and forward when I want to be, you need a degree of extroversion in you to be a good salesman, but I'm more of a private person all around. I don't seek out friendships as a psychological need in my default. I was selective and not many people know me. They know _of_ me, but they don't know me. There's a difference. Beth and Gwen knew me. And I didn't mind it. They're good people and they both are passionate about making the world a better, safer place. That's something the two of them will forever have in common. They're positive role models to surround myself with, ma would say.

And Gwen was gorgeous and brilliant. I liked her. As for Beth, despite her flaws (inflexible to the point of stubborn and annoying), is quite kind and generous. I can admit this because I hung out with her a lot more than I want to realize. She's pretty understanding too, she's helped me out more than a few times in cases I didn't think she'd care about. Turns out Tennysons, or maybe just Beth (because she didn't look the part, not even close), shouldn't be underestimated in their capability to play someone's fairy godmother or Doctor Phil.

"How are things with Julian?" I found myself asking before I really registered the meaning of my words. Beth talking, her incessant chatter was rather comforting noise truthfully. It reminded me that people had normal lives and normal worries. Lately she's been more quiet than usual. Other than the occasional snark or sass, I didn't really get much out of her these days. She's even rather unenthusiastic in bantering or sparring with me or even yelling at me when I'd accidentally spilled half a pot of hot coffee on her jacket this morning at the garage, which left her only wearing the plain black t-shirt she had on underneath presently.

Something was chewing at her and given the lack of conversation we had about Julian in recent days I suspected he might be the problem. At the mention of her boyfriend's name Beth stiffened. She confessed, "I think I'm in the dog house."

"What? Why?" I asked, my surprise evident. I was never that proactive on setting them up, it was Gwen's doing that got them going out on dates in the first place but as they progressed I was under the impression that they're on a decent road. He's quite the gentleman, people said. I'm aware Beth and Julian frequent the tennis court or the park for their time together, also that the latter patiently tutored the former in Physics, a subject she struggled infamously with. They're not so bad for each other. It's a safe and healthy relationship. I can tell that he cares about her too (regardless, or maybe even more for it) with the abnormalities she possessed (greatest, most wanted weapon in the universe, cough, cough). What changed?

Beth has a careful look on her face then, like she's filtering through what to say and what to keep to herself. She's not lying, she's just not willing to completely lay the truth bare. She's hiding something. I don't know why and it makes me nervous and concerned. She's always been the honest, all cards facing up type. "He's got a big competition next week. It's regional level so it's pretty serious. He's been training for it for nearly two months. Since the date's closing in his coach wants him to put in the extra hours. He only has time for school and practice. So we haven't been seeing each other lately."

"That's not the whole story," I stated, not questioned. It wasn't forceful or demanding still she looks guilty that I noticed her attempts at a coverup. I didn't want to meddle or interrogate her because it wasn't within my rights but she's probably my closest friend so I guess it did bother me that she didn't feel confident enough to share stuff with me. But then again maybe it was girl things, and I'm a guy and not exactly the perfect confidant for such matters in the male and female relationship department (I mean, what do _I_ know about relationships? Sex was another thing though.). Almost as if reading my mind she amended, "It's not that I don't trust you. I do. Actually that's kind of the issue here."

I raised my eyebrow in shock and she literally slapped her own face in embarrassment. "Damn it. I said too much."

I followed her train of thought, coming forth a new but sensible conclusion, "Wait. He's jealous of.. _us?_"

I actually didn't know what 'us' meant. I'm sure I didn't hate it. But what did that imply? That I liked it? No. Or what? Why did I feel the way I did? Because she's good company as much as I didn't want to admit it? Because she gets me? Now this is confusing for me. It's dangerous grounds to dwell upon. Perhaps it's best if it remains unidentified.

Beth looked about ready to dig herself a hole in the ground as Cannonball and lie in it indefinitely. "It's just, we've been fighting. About things I don't really understand, things I can't process myself. Julian thinks I'm secretive and guarded and he's tired of the fact that I don't let him in or anything. That I don't open up to him."

I knew that Julian, especially after he was in possession of Ship, wanted to help out on solving the alien conspiracy we're dealing with. Over and over again (as Beth claimed that apparently being fully human and the master of a galvanic mechamorph balances the other one out and does not tip the scale of survival validity in any way) she explicitly forbade him from participating in our efforts.

What I bet aggravates Julian is that Beth has a personal bias for him, as technically she's the one who called the shots on our whole operation and her mindset is as tough as taedenite. She wanted to protect him. He's driven but he's not the kind to get his masculinity injured but maybe his independence, his freedom was another cause. It wasn't even about competence. It's about _chance_. His chance, which he is deprived of. He feels caged, trapped. It makes sense.

And the second yet equally important part of the things he's frustrated about now came to light for me. It's me, or rather her being with me. The entire affair is related and ever expanding. His absence, my presence equals fear. Fear is the most powerful emotion, the hardest to overcome. Fears are also complex. It could be real for one person and not for the other. Fear is like a shadow that latches onto you and never lets go. You can't destroy it. You can only live with it.

Beth doesn't need to explain it any further but she did anyway, wanting to defend him. "It's not that he's suspicious. He knows you and I, we're not doing anything that crosses the limits of being friends. We spend time together, we kick ass and make fools of ourselves but that's all. Nothing ever happened between us. He knows that."

She looks sad. "It's just he believes we have a connection. I mean of course we do. We're both jerks, we have a rowdy past I won't like to repeat, and now we're in this shindig together. But for some reason he doesn't think those things are–"

"Static?" I suggested. She nods, "Yeah. He says I'm denying the inevitable. The chemistry and the adrenaline and the revelation. That I might grow to have serious feelings for you and you for me. That you might _want_ me." She laughs bitterly. "You're with _Gwen_ for crying out loud. That's as high as the bar gets. I mean it's silly, right? Julian doesn't know what he's talking about."

Green eyes penetrated mine in erratic desperation. Like she wants me to give her a straight answer. Whether it was a yes or a no that she wanted I had no idea. I proceed with caution and find myself answering the safest, most logical option. "Yeah. He's thinking too deep."

Then I came to understand that on the other side her words made me want to protest. She phrased it like she was a settlement, the lower one specifically. Like every other girl out there was a better alternative compared to her when I'm the one choosing. Why does she have to be like that? Defining herself, her worth so harshly?

"See?" She remarks lightly, tossing the paper cup into the bin six yards away. Impressively she actually made the shot. "It's wishful thinking but I hope he lets it go. If not, then I'm not going to stand trying to assure someone twenty-four seven that he's not compromised. I _can't_ make him believe that sort of thing. He has to believe in it himself. If he can't, I'm going to have to let him dump me."

"Why let him dump you? Why not break up with him first?" I asked. She could spare herself the blame. Why does she feel the need to lose more than she should?

"Because he's _not_ completely wrong. I am being unfair to him. I made him felt insecure about himself. Indecision is a decision. He's a nice guy, Kevin. He doesn't deserve to be put down like that," Beth replies with ease as if it's only natural.

"And you do?" I questioned. She gives me a soft smile that convinced me she'd given herself the position of being everyone's emotional punching bag. "More than he does."

Even if I never said it aloud, I didn't like it. I hate seeing her get hurt. Whether it be physically or not. But like everything else, it's Beth's call.

As if on cue to stop our discussion my plumber's badge buzzed. I quickly scanned the notification it reported. "The quadrant satellite spotted an unmarked ship passing through the suburbs. It has a cooling unit and a level eight missiles system."

Beth immediately went into combatant mode, expression intensifying. The game is on. "What are the odds that's a Highbreed battleship?"

Triangulating and locking onto the war cruise's coordinates, I smirked. "We have our target. Let's go."


	5. Five

**A/N**: This one entails Julian and Beth's argument which occurred prior to the previous chapter. Reviews welcome.

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><p><em>Five<br>_

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><p>"You're being ridiculous," I stated.<p>

Julian stared at me incredulously. "Am I, really?" He paced back and forth in the front of my living room which left me sitting on the couch alone, several open textbooks and half finished worksheets (which I suspect will be left untouched, it's safe to say our studying is over) littering the coffee table and accompanying me in the lower station.

I didn't care about the test though, I didn't care if I had a fat chance of failing it spectacularly. All I cared about was the fact that Julian looked like he's about to rip the Earth's crust open with his bare hands.

Decisively he chose that moment to face me, hazel eyes almost glowing, "Why do you keep saying that, _huh_? Why do you keep telling me that I'm imagining things?"

"Because there is nothing going on between Kevin and me," I hopelessly repeated for the umpteenth time. Julian is conflicted and he sighs heavily. "I know you're not cheating on me, Beth. But you have to widen your perspective. Think of how this appears to me."

"How does my friendship with Kevin look to you?" I was willing to listen to his view of the situation.

His features donned a pained expression and I realize I was the cause for that pain. It made me feel terrible but it was nothing compared to when I hear him say, "Like it has a spark. Like it's going to bloom into something else."

I winced when he continues with a voice so painstakingly gentle, "You knew him far longer before you met me. You took so many risks for him. In New York and now here. You trust him." I know what he left unsaid. _You trust him more than you trust me._

"Of course I trust him. How else am I going to work with him on the battlefield if I don't?" I reasoned automatically, trying my best to soothe his wounds. "My grandfather went missing on his investigation on the Highbreed army threatening to colonize our planet. It happens that Kevin returned to town, he was going to sell people weapons to blow things up and I stopped him. He decided to stay and lend a hand partly because he wants to make up for what he did and because he took a fast liking to Gwen. I needed all the help I can get. I wasn't about to say 'no' to a valuable ally."

"There you go again," Julian muttered under his breath.

"What did I _do_?" I demanded, spontaneously throwing my hands up.

He looks spent. "You keep making up excuses for him. Make him seem completely uninterested in you. How many times did you mention your cousin or your grandfather to throw him off my radar? I'm aware of the back story, Beth. You divert my attention away from the _real_ problem here."

"Be reasonable about this," I begged. "How in the world is _Kevin_ your problem?"

"You are linked to him, okay?!" Julian growled. "Essentially though you two are not joined at the hip you will always be connected."

His choice of words appalled me. This isn't even an accusation, this was a proclamation. Nothing I say or do will ever change his mind.

Julian is exasperated as he tells me, "You don't even realize it, do you? He means a lot to you. A lot more than a friend should. I see it."

"And seeing is believing, I take it?" I met his eyes, hoping they had a fighting light. They didn't. "I spend as much time as I could with you yet I don't feel any closer to you. Ironically I feel farther away, like we're drifting apart and I can't help it, I can't stop it. I'm _not_ supposed to. Not if I really care about you. You have your responsibilities and I respect that, truly. You stand up for what you believe in and you never give up. It's one of the things I like about you. It's the reason I fell for you in the first place."

He stared wistfully at the watch on my wrist, and despite being fully clothed I feel like I'm naked when he looks at the omnitrix that way. Like it was both a blessing and a curse for him. Little did he know it was the same for me. He frowns. "I'm not going to ask you to choose. I know you need him. I just don't know if you need me."

"I _do_ need you. I didn't lie to you. I hope you know that," I looked up to him, searching for his faith in me. He nods. "What are you referring to specifically?"

"That I like you a lot and I don't want to hurt you," I admitted, thick honesty lacing my words.

He closed his eyes momentarily, then they blink open as defeated as ever. "I like you a lot too. Why would I feel this way if I didn't? I know you're not doing this on purpose. I know if he hadn't shown up that day by the train tracks, you wouldn't go out of your way to look for him. But does that change anything? He's here. And you have feelings for him. It matters to me because knowing that by instinct, it's torture."

I wanted to rebuff him but he follows his explanation with, "I mean, I don't blame you. Where do _I_ fit in? To all this madness about aliens and galaxy conquests? I'm just a helpless human."

He knows full well why I don't let him fight alongside Kevin, Gwen and I. I'd vent about the subject multiple times to dissuade him. We were equipped with the blood (or the tools in my case) necessary, he wasn't. But that's not what's important. I couldn't have his blood on my hands. I had countless opponents. All of which were relentless in their respective pursuits. They wouldn't care who gets hurt.

If anyone ever harmed him, if anyone managed to do the unthinkable to him and I were too late to stop them or shield him or escape with him safely, I didn't know what to do. I'd be done for. I'd lose everything. I promised myself I'd never let anyone give up their life for my cause. If anyone had to die, it had to be me.

My eyes were watering by this point. My voice steadily calm, I told him, "And what do you think I am? I might be able to become an arsenal of monsters. But without this damn weapon, I'm _nothing_. I'm human too. Being human isn't so bad. Not if it keeps you alive."

I recognize the fire in his eyes. It was hatred. He saw his own humanity as a weakness. He saw my omnitrix as Kevin's strength (or any alien hybrid fellow's upper hand for that matter) against him. I couldn't take it. Didn't he know what the omnitrix meant to me? It was the most exhilarating, amazing coping mechanism anyone could get. I needed it. The world, invaded and unprotected, needed me to wear it. It wasn't the goddamn obstacle of the nonexistent contest between him and the osmosian. Had he demoted it to that? Did he only truly see what's attached to my wrist as something which stands in his way?

Fulfilling the doubts I didn't want confirmed Julian grumbled coldly, "Lucky me."

I lost it. "What do you want me to do?! Take it _off_?!" When his eyes widened and Julian takes a hasty step back, I still hadn't realize that I'd risen up to my full height and had been yelling my throat raw at him. My temper had suddenly outmatched his. "This thing only comes off my arm when I'm _dead_!"

It's like he was struck by lightning. I was out of line. Not because I was shouting, but rather what I shouted at him. I'd dropped yet another bomb. I hadn't revealed that part about myself yet. The only ones who knew were Kevin (quite recently officially but I suspected he had his theory, come on, the guy had been obsessed with the watch) and Gwen (during the summer when we were ten) and that was just because they were present when Azmuth on several accounts had that conversation with me.

The omnitrix had bonded onto my genetic template (Grandpa Max, an honored plumber, was the intended host it was designed for but when I found it first in that crater it had deemed me close enough of a match that it decided to tackle me) and that's the primary reason it may as well be permanently attached to me. It was a piece of biotechnology that went against the laws of science, medicine, everything. It transcended space and time. It was stronger than steel, stronger than anything really as the galvan inventor had wanted it to be indestructible (alas the only thing that could destroy it was itself, yes, I'm talking about the self destruct mode which I'll prevent at all costs). Unfortunately the same cannot be said for its user. Warriors, mortals live to die after all.

Yet, the omnitrix's full potential was limitless. With it I can transform into anything, I nearly reached invincibility. I had full access to all the DNA material available in Primus' codon stream which acted as a pocket dimension within the watch.

A vital part of its job was to make sure I survived. It acted as a protective armor. It's equipped with a healing mechanism, enhanced durability and invulnerability, speed, strength, everything. It was much like the antigens in the human body. With that they could only do so much. It repairs what it can but sometimes when dealt with enough force I may still carry the internal damage inflicted from my time as another species. I found out myself the hard way when I reverted back into human form bearing unwanted souvenirs like bruises, cuts and scars. I suppose I had to be grateful. I was sore but at least alive. But if I am ever stabbed, shot or injured enough to get myself killed, as Bethany Tennyson, that was it. It's over. I'm defenseless. I was flesh and blood. I have a human body. I'm not scales, fur or diamond. The omnitrix wasn't going to be my guardian angel.

Which brings me to the climatic point of this product manual. The user's genes was its heart. The heart pumped the blood. It cannot stop beating. If my genetic code was no longer active, splicing and replicating, my cells regenerating and healing, the omnitrix would reinstall. It would release itself from me. I will lose the omnitrix when I stopped breathing.

Given with the omnitrix came the obligatory task of endangering my life on a daily basis, rest assured I know that I signed my death wish (twice). It was only fair. The greater the power, the greater the consequence. It was worth it. It's not something I can willingly retire from with my life intact. Sometimes when I'm off the high, off the adrenaline, exhausted beyond measure, thoughts like these used to pollute my mind. It haunted me like an echo. But I've made peace with it a while ago that it no longer burdened me. Had I let it controlled me, I wouldn't have much courage. I won't be able to perform effectively. Having Julian of all people criticize my choice, my gamble was unbearably painful.

It's only when Julian mirrored my aghast expression I came into full awareness of my outburst. It was a mistake. I recovered with a shaky breath, apologizing to him profusely, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. Don't worry about it." I ordered, "In fact forget it. Forget what I said. All of it."

He took slow steps towards the sofa and collapsed onto it. Head buried in his hands he moaned, horrified, "What the _hell_, Beth? What the hell? That's crazy. Absolutely crazy."

I fall back next to him and rested my hand on his shoulder, hoping the small gesture would comfort him. He doesn't respond. I said, "It's just a metaphor. The omnitrix is an integral part of me. That's all."

It's not a lie, not entirely. Because if I had it my way I won't give it up until my dying day, which I planned to be very far from now. I just hope my skills won't fail me, that my luck in self preservation persists.

Julian looks at me, his stare dubious. "Who are you kidding, Beth? You're not fooling anyone. I _know _you meant it. Every word. The context was literal application too." His gaze traveled onto the watch once more, but this time it wasn't dark, rather it was empty, like he didn't want to feel anymore and I didn't know which one was worse. It's like he's waking up. The greatest illusion in this world is the illusion of separation. That illusion is already shattered. He exhales, "This is you. This is you for good."

Perhaps it's the weakest I've ever heard myself speak, "This is me."

Julian runs a hand through his short hair and stands up abruptly, simultaneously removing my touch from him. "I've got to go. I have an early morning practice before classes start."

When he makes a beeline for the door I quickly trailed after him, catching, no, clutching onto him by the elbow. "Wait, Julian. Please."

He spins when I pulled. Turning around he gave me a flat, unfeeling, "What?"

"Can we sort this out tomorrow? Talk some more at school or maybe after?" I pleaded. It sounded like glass. Fragile.

"I can't. I'll be busy until the regional cup," he replies fixedly. He was right. He had to compete. This was supposed to be our last study date before his schedule goes to hell. What a nightmare, I thought to begin with. This past hour was a disaster. I didn't deserve him. He had a life, priorities. I took his time, exploited his trust and feelings for me. Looking at our present, I earned neither. I wasn't fit to.

"So I'll see you at the match?" Still I asked expectantly, as if waiting for the littlest signs of forgiveness. I was almost always there in attendance when he plays. In the audience, cheering at the top of my lungs (and unconsciously eying the perimeter of the court in case something decided to crash the event like a security guard when I run out of air). I thought that no matter how twisted things get I'd always have a place there. That I'd always belong. I was wrong.

Julian sighs regrettably. "Maybe it's best if you don't come. I need to concentrate." He'd told me the noise never bothered him. He thought it was sweet how I was amongst the loudest in the crowd. He didn't want me there. He wanted to be given his space. He added at the last minute, as if it's difficult to promise, "I– _uh–_ I'll call you."

"Okay," I nodded, agreeing to him. He didn't exactly give me another option. "Good night," he said and I take it as my cue to let go of him. It's not a violent exit or anything. The door only clicked shut. I still end up crying.


	6. Six

**A/N**: Companion/extended piece to _Four_. Enjoy fellas. Reviews are awesome.

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><p><em>Six<br>_

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><p>Chasing after a ship with a land based vehicle was perhaps the least effective way of catching it. Especially that now we're driving on rocky terrain through the forest path. My car is my pride and joy and all, but at this rate we're going to lose them since I haven't upgraded the afterburners to my engine (I was going to do it next week). Beth seems to think the same as she displayed a lot of anxiety, tapping her fingers on the dashboard during the later duration of our ride.<p>

She stopped then turned to face me. "Stop the car."

At her command I instantly stomped on the brakes and pulled over, removing the keys from the ignition, the machine falling to sleep with it. She got out the door, a little impatient, slamming it harder than to my liking but I made no comment of it and only followed her.

I knew we're at the outer lands of Bellwood. This town in recent years underwent a lot of development, we have the docks for trading, improved train lines, an expanded airport, the coast (in which the pier, alas the lesser evil counterpart amongst the stock of cliche spots for teen dating because this theme park is basically a poor imitation of the carnivals I've been to in cities such as San Francisco, New York, Rio and Las Vegas, was situated) and all but it's still a rather backwater place since the surrounding two hundred miles got little attention from the city's funding and estate plans. It made sense. It wasn't going to get a lot of traffic. There was nothing here. It only led up to the woods then the edge of the island (we're by the south of the North's south, the east is where the port is). It's unexplored, abandoned and not many people frequent the route. Only travelers, or more pitiably wanderers would pass it. We ran through an old motel, a gas station and a few vintage bars earlier at the last of the streets, but now we're completely isolated. There weren't any signs of human life. There was no infrastructure, no roadworks, no lights, no buildings, just tall canopies of trees with patches of grass and rocks underneath. These are the rural areas, uninhabited and desolate. We're getting close to the beach I think, I smell a saturated hint of salt from the seawater and detect dryness replacing the moisture of the air. And proof is there are traces of sand on my tires.

After pocketing my keys, I went to stand by her side. Beth is aptly rotating the wheel of the omnitrix, its interface projecting holographic models of the available roster appearing in sequence with each turn. She's picky about selecting which one it seems and I didn't blame her.

"Tennyson, I don't think we're going to get away with ripping an opening through the ship's walls. It's going to set off all the alarms. We need to be stealthy about this one," I began.

This little mission of ours should go well if we did it on the safe side, smooth infiltration in other words. We get in, do our thing (destroy a comm sat or a vat of liquidized radioactive isotope perhaps?) then get out. As much as I preferred to hit hard and cripple them, the last couple of times we came at them with guns blazing it nearly backfired on us. The more aggressive encounters usually end up with things exploding and buildings crumbling apart. It's pretty much vivid imagery fitted for a catastrophe. Beth didn't like that. Badly. Memorably I remembered how decisively she had used her body (frankly it wasn't hers but a vaxasaurian's at the time) to barricade the onslaught of a Highbreed ship so that it wouldn't ram straight into the hospital.

So our recent approach have been more _tame_. We'll get the objective done, but there's a deal of some sorts that we'd do whatever is necessary to minimize the collateral damage.

"I know, I'm thinking here," she answered before unexpectedly grinning. Before I could say anything else she struck the dial and was enveloped in a green flash. When the light subsided she was the necrofriggian, a blue moth-like alien with icy powers. A bonus of the kind's abilities is their intangibility. Smart choice.

Sometimes I wondered what it feels like. To transform, to become another being, to experience the world by another body, another set of limbs and five new senses, to have that ultimate power. I didn't envy her, at least I don't think I do anymore, I've come to terms with my heritage and our past. I didn't get stuck in the Null Void because of her. When my appetite for vengeance, overall loathing at the world in general or simply put my insanity got the best of me it might seem true but when I looked back on those events, those years I was imprisoned by reason and logic, I brought that self destruction upon myself (we never really talk about this though, it's cowardly packed up in the box labelled with '_all the things we avoid mentioning for the sake of the awkward mood_').

Her wings which were initially folded into a cloak around her, broke out into their full shape. With a cold breath, she offered huskily, "You up for a bit of flying?"

I smiled crookedly and let her take me by the upper arms, my feet hanging as we ascended at high speed into the sky. It was quite the sensation being suspended like this. A familiar rush of danger and esctacy claimed me. Yet I didn't feel the lingering fear or uncertainty, not even a little bit, not at all.

Because I know she's not going to let me go. In human form we barely ever touched each other. If we did it was probably a shove, a slap or a tug, all dismissible platonic, purposeless things, because that's all we're comfortable with but when we're on the field it didn't matter. We had to do our jobs and watch each others' backs. It's urgent. If that involved being flushed together in close proximity or catapulting me through a certain distance or a flight with me dangling from under her so be it. We were professionals or at least we try to be. But sometimes I wonder if we could ever rely on each other so confidently, so openly when we're just ourselves, away from all the action. I earnestly hope we could. That it wouldn't be any different. Never timid. That whether being in a state of peril or not didn't affect the extent of how we can count on one another.

In just a minute we had closed in on the airship flying over the corners of the pacific. It wasn't the big mother ship but it hadn't been the small sized carriers either. It was moderately sized with two medium retractable laser cannons and an automated missiles launcher pad as its weapons system. It was actually impressive ammo, all military grade when classified, for an averagely built aircraft. Almost a little too much. They had to be protecting something inside, some advanced technological equipment of theirs or at least an object of value that they'd need the defense. If I were them though I'd do the same and take the precautions because paranoia was better than being unprepared. Plus their unprecedented record from annihilating and conquering other planets isn't repeating itself here. Beth, Gwen and I might be just a trio (presently a duo) but we pack quite a punch (nevertheless juggling with stopping all their threats and movements isn't easy work, we have a number of close calls here and there).

"Wait on the roof," she instructed. "I'll find the main computers and switch off the security protocols. Stay in the drop zone until I call your badge when it's done then we'll meet in the hangar."

"Roger that," I responded to her briefing then braced myself as she released me with momentum before phasing through the structure like a phantom, disappearing for the time being. I landed and rolled onto my side and knelt low, balanced on the hull made out of Incursean titanium it seems, I inspected. Sturdy but low density for better propulsion. I decided against absorbing it as a coat. I'd find a stronger metal later inside for my exoskeleton. That way it'll really hurt those deadbeats when I knock them out. No mercy.

Before long my badge buzzed and I immediately moved, picking the lock of a hatch near the back of the ship. I sneaked inside through that entrance and no alarms were triggered. It was stuffy but I fit into it and I carefully climbed down a series of ladders before ending up in a room full of pipes and circuit boards. I think it's the maintenance department. Quickly finding the exit I started jogging through the vacant hallways. I botched a ride on the express elevator's shaft and traveled four levels below, arriving in the main hangar.

Beth is already there as the cerebrocrustacean (because she's many things but a hacker she is not and the increased intelligence is kind of a cheat-cheat yet it's not, she does have natural talent in the gig), blasting DNAliens left and right with shocks of electricity. I absorbed the wall, carbon steel of higher carbon content and dived in. Striking through the radius, I clocked the ones closest to me and kicked at another one which lunged himself at me. Smashing the heads of two of them together, then throwing another onto his comrade, I quickly helped in depleting their numbers via street fighting. The whole squad was down afterwards. It was rather fast too. We've learned how to combat the henchmen fairly efficiently. As long as you're agile and they don't hit you with their snot, you're good.

Beth changed back into herself, fifteen, five-six, chestnut brown hair and green eyes. She told me, "They know we're here." Then her expression shifted into a furious one, pouting, "There was another control panel I didn't know about. Apparently one of their engineers designed a plumber's gadget detector. The omnitrix is a dead giveaway and so is your badge. Messing up their surveillance was useless. It's a fool's errand. We can't bypass their safeguards anymore. They informed their captain, a Highbreed I imagine so we have to finish soon and ditch this dump."

I nodded then notified her, "I think I know where they're keeping their cargo. There was a large storage bunker in the second story. It's got to be the place."

"Then we have to go there," she replied before scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion when I crouched to raid one of the fallen DNAliens by his belt. I found what I was looking for and showed it to her, simply explaining, "Keycard. Might buy us some time for the locks."

"Good thinking," she remarked. Then we're both sprinting through the floors, my mental mapping coming in handy. Upon reaching the bunker I slid the card into the authentication frame and we were able to enter. The automatic doors closed behind us. The sensors picked up our heat signature and it signaled the grid to turn on the lights. At the center, there's a supply of quartz crystals, piles and heaps of the gemstone boulders in various forms so tall and wide they took up most of the available space. Nothing else occupies the room.

Beth looked as puzzled as I was. "Why would they need these?"

I too thought they had firearms or precious hardware hidden, not these unstable crystals even that (brilliant) lunatic Paradox had trouble utilizing (a fatal mistake that went horribly right for him). But maybe there's a bigger picture, it was all part of some unknown equation. The Highbreeds were collecting strangely unique, downright exotic items as if they're component materials to an even more complicated project. It's a puzzle. Neither of us were particularly good with puzzles, it was more within Gwen's turf. I'll ask her to dig into some research later (what did guano, cold temperature and quartz crystals had in common?).

"Does it matter?" I asked. "If it's the ingredient to whatever it is they're cooking up–"

"Then we can't let them have it," Beth finished for me. She quickly made use of the watch and morphed into the dwarfish white sonorosian. I warned her, "Sure they know we're here, but at least they haven't tracked us down to our exact location. Do you really want to make _that _much noise?"

Beth in her altered robotic voice retaliated, "At this phase I don't care how loud we get. This is the fastest way to destroy these crystals."

I didn't question her then and merely stepped aside to let her work. I closed my ears, wishing I brought earplugs with me but I didn't and watched as she duplicated into about a dozen copies, positioning her clones to encircle the mineral. It was an attack from all angles. It could kill her opponent if she wanted it to (and sometimes I realize as much as I was able to kill her five years ago (and also right now, but why would I do that?), she was also able to do the same to me, except she had no intention to, she only used her strength for good). She opened her mouth and released a high frequency sonar wave, raising it gradually to its peak volume. The stone shatter into tiny, irrecoverable pieces.

"Let's go," she said. We exited the bunker and from the left a horde of DNAliens were gaining on us. We tried running the other way, but then turns out we were faced with an identical blockade. There's probably a hundred of them in whole sum. They'll catch up to us soon. We had to engage. What I didn't know was that Beth somehow came up with the idea to escape this confrontation entirely and acted swiftly, much more sudden than I predicted. I had no idea what was going on when she pulled the stunt.

Goop, a polymorph, the viscous alien made from hot acid had replaced the white silicon based amplifier. She made her way through the ground around me and the floor hissed and cracked. Before I knew it we busted through one level, then another and another, the rubble I'm standing on multiplying in weight and penetrating holes until we were out of the ship, wind blasting from everywhere. There's a flash of green from just above me then midair Jetray, the manta-bat aerophibian, swooped in and caught me.

Relieved I complimented her quick thinking and reflexes, "Nice!"

She countered, "Don't thank me yet!"

And that's when the ship fired at us. "Hold on!" Beth immediately started flying in zigzagged patterns then, zipping through the air to evade the rapidly shot laser beams in our direction. As she weaved and bobbed I can tell I'm deadweight in this situation and sooner or later she's going to be slowed down because of me. If I let go of my layering I'd be more vulnerable but we'd have higher mobility. She knew what I was thinking before I said it aloud and she yelled, insisting, "Don't lose the coat!"

"Seriously?!" I argued and before she could answer me, Beth let out a sharp cry. We jolted a bit before stabilizing and when I look up I see her right wing is blistering, smoke evaporating off the outer side. The plasma had struck her. The ship retreated into the atmosphere, having known it hit its intended mark, no longer in pursuit of us.

But in contradiction we have even bigger problems now. In effect of the blast she took, the omnitrix symbol flashed red and gave out a series of wailing beeps. It's running out of energy. To be fair, she had put it to work strenuously this past hour.

"No, not _now_! Anytime but now!" Beth pleaded.

We were in the middle of the ocean and split apart by gravity. The distance in between us and dry land wasn't terribly far (I sensed regardless of the loops and curves we've actually been flying back from where we came in the chase), we only have maybe two miles to spare but between us and the bottom, we're way up high and doomed. She's not flying very well now, struggling and barely in line, she's like a torn kite and I'm the ribbon on its tail. I let go of the metal against her wishes, not that she's complaining about it now since she's panicking either way, letting out a stream of steady, hushed no's. In a few seconds Beth loses her equilibrium completely and we're free falling headfirst through the air. Neither of us were producing a sound, but there's absolutely no silence as we close in to the Earth by collision course.

At this rate when we hit the water it's going to feel like bricks. I'm no pessimist but I can't deny that there's a fair chance we might not make it. The shock and blunt trauma from the contact was bound to break bones or something like that. It's going to hurt like hell. And as tough as I was, I know I can't get away unscathed from this.

Then at what might have been the last opportunity Beth abruptly swerves to the side, placing herself underneath me with her back flat to the remaining altitude below and takes my weight horizontally that I now lay on top of her abdomen. In this form she is much broader than I am that essentially she covered me head to toe and side to side from behind in parallel.

I screamed, "What are you doing?!"

"Whatever happens, you swim up!" That was all she gave me, her tone forceful and desperate.

I can't even fight her, she has an iron grip on both my wrists, now spread outwards like some taut crucifixion that I can't move. With that position, she's going to absorb all the impact. And in that moment I realize that's exactly what she planned to do. I begged, "_Beth_! No, don't! Beth!"

"Save your breath, Kevin!" She wasn't going to listen to me.

We crashed into the sea.


	7. Seven

**A/N**: So the reason this update wasn't quite as fast as before is due to my depression acting up again and let's just say I've been struggling with nearly everything I do, even writing too partially. But I guess when you give a lot of _oomphh_ into something, you can make it, even if just barely. I've said enough. Enjoy the chapter. Reviews are appreciated.

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><p><em>Seven<em>

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><p>He dropped off Gwen home and was about to do the same for me but then after I made a small comment about being hungry (which is actually appropriate given the fact that the last thing I had were bagels for breakfast) we took off to this little detour. Kevin was surprisingly all too willing to do just that, even though we've been out all this time and I suspected that's his mother who's texted him a couple of times when he took out his phone. I asked him if we could just get something to go so that he can get back to his house for rest (and to no longer worry his mother) but he firmly insisted we stop by and led me into one of the many empty booths. It's nearly ten o'clock so the place's mostly cleaned up and deserted save for a few late patrons, and the remaining staff would probably end their shift pretty soon for closing. To my conscience it's also a bad hour for consuming food, but hell I didn't really care, I burn calories like a car goes through gasoline.<p>

After our orders arrived on the table, I started on my plate. After a few bites I wiped my mouth with a stray napkin and stared awkwardly at my less than enthusiastic companion.

"What's up with you?" I asked, noticing he hasn't eaten a bite of his burger nor touched his fries. This diner is one of his favorites so I'm getting a little confused at his lack of appetite. Instead of savoring the flavour of the (admittedly rather greasy) still hot fast food, Kevin is staring down his meal like it's toxic or something.

"Kevin?" I searched for his eyes. When he meets my gaze the stiffness in his face lessens but doesn't fade completely. The composure is forced. I saw through it. "Kevin, for real, what's wrong?"

He runs a hand through his hair before looking me square in the eye. "Since your grandpa promised he'll come back, there's no need to go portal jumping into the Null Void again right?"

It's been a long day (but a good day thankfully). One of many which I've spent through a sequence of interesting events. Attempting to rescue Pierce, Helen and Manny, I went into the Null Void. Unexpectedly the journey also led me to Grandpa Max. Noble as always, he had been the head of the rebellion in the dimension to oppose Animo (who renamed himself D'Void in his temporary reign, talk about pretentious) and his army of corrupted Null guardians. When he had the opportunity to leave that madness behind and come with me, he rejected, very much resolved on finishing what he began. I know a mind made up when I see one. And Grandpa Max's a fighter, a stubborn fighter. Just like me. I inherited a lot of his qualities, all of them I'm proud of. I'm just glad he's alive and well. And if that's what makes him happy, then I'm happy. I've found him and he'll find me. I know he will.

"Well what if I want to visit him? If he takes longer than predicted," I reasoned the possibility. His expression is discouraging and it raised questions. I grew skeptical. "Where are you going with this?"

His arm reaches over and gently pokes the crook of my left shoulder with just two fingers, accurate on the spot and I loudly grimaced before becoming embarrased that I was discovered. Apparently he suspected I was injured through my limited movements and posture. And I thought I was careful. But Kevin's got a good eye, detective worthy almost. "Lemme see."

I sighed at his demand and peeled off my jacket. I pulled at my shirt's collar, stretching the material and exposed the dark purple bruise the size of a tennis ball. I'll admit, I didn't thought it was this bad. Now I kind of regret having shown him. I hastily put on my jacket back.

"How'd you get that?" Kevin pressed on. To be honest, I think it was either from when one of the guardians decided to play hostage and later drop me onto a floating astroid or from that time when in the midst of our duel on the bridge Pierce nearly threw me off the chasm.

"I dunno," I lied. "I never really keep track. These things happen. And anyways I only got tossed around a bit because I didn't really transform much. No big deal. And I had to keep the jetpack. Sorry I lost it by the way," I apologized lamely for the missing plumber tech. It was relatively valuable but Kevin didn't care for it. He looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"That doesn't matter, _okay_? What matters is– What _matters_–" He caught himself then, catching his breath, far too much emotion bottled in his being and I'm well past the point of intrigue. I had to know. "What are you trying to say, Kevin?"

With stern reprimand he spoke, "The Null Void is an awful and dangerous place. I don't want you making that trip again."

_What makes you think you can control me?_ I almost shot back instinctively, before I realize that would be a rude motor mouth moment. And I repeated his words in my head, considering their true meaning. He wasn't trying to control me. He genuinely believed I shouldn't go back there. For reasons that remain too vague. Reasons, which whatever they are I can vouch an argument for. "I have the omnitrix as means of protection, I can go anywhere, survive anything," I claimed, my faith a little blind.

Kevin lets out a mocking laugh. "Keep on telling yourself that." He turns serious then, not letting it go without some righteous and all too correct explanation. "Your default is a human body, a human brain, a human heart. You're a hundred twenty pounds of skin, meat and organs. You bruise and you bleed, Beth."

I didn't need a reminder of that from him. But somehow it felt wrong to say that aloud, malicious even. And then I get it. He wanted to protect me. But guess what? Even if it's nice to have him watch out for me, I'm grateful for him; this isn't that, this is too much, this is giving me constraints for something I'm competent enough to deal with singlehandedly. This is him undermining my abilities. And I thought he trusted me, my strength. Knew what I was capable of. I've trained even in my human form. I am much more athletic than I was as a kid (but what good is a soccer star player against bloodthirsty killers?), and even fighting wise, I was rather creative, I could improvise. Sure my hand to hand combat was unstructured, far from Gwen's perfect styles, but it was effective.

"I can take care of myself," I protested dryly. "Do I have to prove that to you? Or is kicking your ass since I was ten not enough?"

He brushed off the comment and I was lucky because that was carried away. Neither of us have ever made references about our past in that tone, challenging and accusing, because it was a sensitive subject, prone to damaging what we've worked so hard to build. This friendship or whatever this is. And I didn't want that. It's the last thing on Earth I wanted.

Kevin is as fierce as ever. "No. Oh, fuck it. Beth, just _listen_ to me for a second." He gathers himself then, calming down. It was so silent in the restaurant I could hear a pin drop. Then he said, "That's not what I meant. Don't get insulted. I'm not implying you're weak. You're far from that. You're one of the strongest people I know." He frowns. "But that won't stop me from forcing this. You _can't_ go there. Not again. That place is hell in every sense of the word. I know that the watch makes you less vulnerable, but that doesn't change anything. You're not untouchable. No one is. It's not worth it, Beth. Whatever you want, it's not. Max will be in town shortly, you just have to exercise one of your weaker virtues; patience."

His speech had an air of finality to it. Like he gave it his all. And I knew he's speaking from personal experience, something he rarely did for these parts, him being convicted, sentenced to the worst place imaginable and made pariah since a tender age, are equivalent to a live grenade. I think I pushed him too far. He never went to such lengths to convince me, bringing back and reliving memories he didn't quite deserve to possess in the first place. Swaying my opinion had never been so important. Presently it's like his very existence depended on it.

He was right for that last part, I had to be patient, and either way Grandpa Max's progress does look promising. I missed him already, even if I'd just saw him though, but I can handle it. I've been much farther away from people I care about. Anyways my anxiety for his life no longer existed. I knew he was okay. And that itself is a comfort, for now I'll no longer have to dream of my doubts. Yet, I still felt the urge to fight Kevin. Maybe it's a force of habit. Maybe he is overreacting a bit. Or maybe it's something else. I just knew it wasn't right to discard the matter so easily. I didn't have answers.

"Okay, I won't go back. I'll wait for him." He looks pleased at my agreement, but I knew he sensed my interrogation coming, knowing he wouldn't get away with his uncanny behavior. I hadn't quite surrendered yet. I asked, "Why are you stressing out over this, Kevin?" When he didn't immediately reply I added, "Yes, the Null Void is rough territory but I'm in one piece. I made it. I was only in there for maybe twelve hours–"

"Thirteen," he corrected. I hadn't realize he'd been counting. "_Okay_. Thirteen hours, noted. And I'm fine," I emphasized. "You were in there for what? Five years? What I did was nothing compared to what you've been through."

"This isn't some contest on who has the most scar tissue," he began in a low voice. I shrugged in exasperation. "I know, that was a stupid thing to say. I just– I meant–"

He nods. "I know. I know. You're just making light of this, as always." The grumpy inflection made me raise an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "Kevin, what we do is dangerous. There's no difference whether we get hurt here or on Mars or in the Null Void. We still get hurt. And we endure."

The guy only scoffed at my dismissive attitude. "Right. Forgive and forget, isn't it? You've always been a saint, Beth. Your mottos. This and that. It sounds like a presidential campaign. Propaganda material basically." He slips rapidly, his ramblings becoming fast, manic and inconherent in demeanor, like some unseen ghost had set him off. Thankfully I caught every word of it, adjusting quickly to his speed and content. It's similar to a broken dam rushing out of his vocal cords. "Everyone who betrayed you, everyone who hurt you, everyone who tried to kill you, you just let it slide. Like you're the giver of redemption. You're a _fool_. Always believing the best in others. Never defensive for your own good. You let yourself become the victim over and over again to self entitled bastards. You're just leaving yourself open to more chances of trouble and pain and–"

"_Stop_," I finally commanded, breathless myself. It hit me. Those statements, they weren't for me. I could read between the lines. This is him berating himself. This is Kevin and his guilt laid bare. This is his confession. His utterly devastating and uncalled for confession. I couldn't hear anymore of it. I don't want him to fall apart like this. I don't want to see him break. "God, _Kevin_. This is what it's about? What you think you did?"

He gives me an incredulous stare, exclaiming, "Did you even hear yourself?" He quoted me, "What I _think_ I did? You mean what I _know_ I did!" He continued, "There was never a trial or anything in retrograde alien justice system but I know my crimes. I know every one of them. And the ones against you, they were the worst of them all." I shook my head at him and he ignores me, pronouncing, "Attempted murder, Beth." He repeated even if it still fell on deaf ears, "Murder."

"Attempted," I pointed out, cancelling the deadly part of it. "Unsuccessful. And ironically, you're now doing the opposite of that."

Kevin shut his eyes, like he's struggling with eye contact but then he conquers it, dark pupils sharp on me. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" I echoed him. "What's wrong with _you_?" I listed the facts. "You've been with me for months, Kevin. You've been driving me around to any destination, giving me a heads-up on things that might kill me, helping me with my grandpa's disappearance, the Highbreed, bullies and life in general. You make it better. You're not my enemy. You're my _friend_."

I frustratingly let out, "Why the hell are you doubting yourself? You've made up for your mistakes. And they were just that. Mistakes. I don't hold them against you, not at all." I told him, "You were a child, Kevin. An emotionally unstable one. You lash out when you feel threatened. And I know a lot of things are there to provoke you. You never fooled me. Your runaway story to New York wasn't some paradise, king of thieves escape. You ran because you felt abandoned. And there, isolating yourself with your grief and your anger made you impulsive and brash. You were violent and insecure, and dominantly that was a product of your upbringing and the psychological influence of your species. None of that was your fault. The world was crueler to you than to most others. I don't know why but I surely know you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve what it compelled you to do. Even if you've done bad things, you're not bad, Kevin." I exhaled, "I _know_ you. You're a hothead. You're witty. You're smart. You're loyal." I hope he understands. "You've changed. You're _you_. The real you."

Kevin looks at me with wide disbelieving eyes. At least the shame is being drained out of him. I want it gone entirely from his system, replaced with honor and dignity and confidence. I slowly said, wanting him to digest this information to the deepest centres of his mind, his conviction, "I forgive you." I revised, "I've forgiven you a long time ago."

For it was only fair that both of our skeletons were revealed I shared, "You don't even know my side of the story. I failed you, Kevin. At the subway, at the bridge, at the waterfalls, I could've saved you. I could've prevented everything if only I tried harder, if only I was less afraid. I could've went back for you, petitioned something at the insitution, get you out. Find you and help you. For all those years I had every opportunity to do something. But I didn't. Because I was a coward who got comfortable with civilian life when you couldn't have the slightest touch of humanity in your reach. And I'm so sorry for doing nothing."

He thought he was the only one who needed to come clean. He wasn't. "You felt like that this whole time?" He stammered, completely thrown off. "You– you're–"

"Human," I interjected before he could say _a freaking messiah_ or something along those lines. "You're human too, Kevin. Well half human. Humans are flawed and perfect at the same time. We do wrong, we forgive. We sentimentalize, we forget. We disconnect then reconnect. We trust. We care. It's normal." I revisited, "I've already forgiven you. Now you have to forgive yourself. Promise me you will. Let it go. Move on. Forgive yourself."

I stared him down and he nods, relenting, before breathing and relaxing. Finally, he smiles. It's the smile I've waited for the whole night. With clarity and relief, he simply says, "Okay."

I'm satisfied. "Good. Now shut up and eat. My double cheese got cold because of our therapy session."

He chuckles.


End file.
